


The Wallflower

by cullenlovesmen (handersmyheart)



Series: Bi!Cullen fics [17]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle, First Kiss, M/M, Silence Kink, mage!sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 22:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18787900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handersmyheart/pseuds/cullenlovesmen
Summary: Vael is little more than a wallflower at the Gallows; he’s a Loyalist with an impeccable record and a migrant from Starkhaven’s destroyed Circle. He performs his duties without fault and guides the young in the safe use of magic, but mostly he keeps to himself and studies. He’s reliable and unremarkable, and yet – and yet he is the most fascinating figure on the island in Cullen’s eyes.





	The Wallflower

**Author's Note:**

> This is all [Hollyand's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyand/pseuds/hollyand) fault!

He looks so delicate like this: throat bared, slumped against the wall, eyes closed, and lips parted. He breathes in slow wheezes, chest rising and falling underneath his robes, body tensed aside from his face, fingers gripping the harsh stone behind him. It’s only been a week, and yet he’s here again, in Cullen’s office, politely requesting the service Cullen knows he shouldn’t perform - not like this, not when it’s a need of dubious nature.

Cullen glances at Enchanter Vael one more time before stepping away and sitting behind his desk, if only to hide how he himself is affected. The mage keeps asking for this, and he need not ask why; the result of his performance is clear as day - but it is unusual he should come so soon since the last they had met.

Vael is little more than a wallflower at the Gallows; he’s a Loyalist with an impeccable record and a migrant from Starkhaven’s destroyed Circle. He performs his duties without fault and guides the young in the safe use of magic, but mostly he keeps to himself and studies. He’s reliable and unremarkable, and yet – and yet he is the most fascinating figure on the island in Cullen’s eyes.

Some say he is the last survivor of Starkhaven’s Vaels - the heir to the throne, had he not been born with magic - but the rumours are unconfirmed. Official records, however, do indicate that for years the man had gone undiscovered as a Ley-Brother in Starkhaven’s chantry, and was found out only weeks before taking his vows, and forced to the Circle. Stories say a great storm formed above the city that day - that lightning came from the sky and struck the Templars responsible for escorting Vael, allowing for his escape. The most exaggerated tales say that Vael was missing for weeks before he was finally tracked and apprehended, but there are no reports that validate such a thing ever took place.

Cullen cannot reconcile the images; how could a man so mild-mannered and calm be the same rebellious royal the legends claim he is? How could the gentle caretaker of children be the same man that rained terror and lightning on his fellow knights?

A moan leaves the Enchanter’s lips, electricity flickering from his fingertips. He opens his eyes, clouded with pleasure as they meet Cullen’s. “Again - please.”

And yet… he can no more make sense of why the mage would want this - from him. It doesn’t fit.

Cullen stands and assumes the position, stopping before the mage - and then he channels, building on the fabric of reality, enforcing its foundation as the lyrium in his veins sings again. And finally, he banishes the Fade, its tendrils withdrawing with a shiver - Enchanter Vael moans, long and loud, leaning his head on the wall. Gasping, writhing, the hollow between his collarbones pulsing underneath a fine sheen of sweat… Cullen closes his eyes before they drift lower and makes for his desk, but a hand around his arm stops him.

“Can you kiss me - one last time?”

The breathless words hang between them, the Enchanter’s eyes hazy and yet beseeching.

“But I have never kissed you.”

“And you never will, unless you do it tonight.” Vael’s grip loosens and his hand drifts lower, trailing down the metal of Cullen’s armour until skin touches skin, and the jolt that follows has nothing to do with magic. Vael laces their fingers together, mouth slightly agape as he looks up at him. “Or do you not feel it?”

Cullen does - Maker forgive him, he does, the strange finality of it all - and lowers until his lips brush Vael’s, feather-light and tentative, a mere shared breath before the mage draws closer and pulls him to a soft kiss. It lingers, gentle and slow, Vael’s fingers squeezing his just before he pulls away, something akin to a chuckle leaving him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Cullen doesn’t speak - cannot think - as the Enchanter walks across the room, a slight wobble to his step, and slips through the door without a backwards glance. It is only when he feels the Fade creeping back in, its ghostly hum vibrating the lyrium in his blood, that he heaves a breath and makes for the bed, pulse thundering in his ears.

The dawn sees the Gallows in chaos; a gaping hole scars the wall of Enchanter Vael’s cell. The man himself is nowhere to be found. He has left no note, nor given any indication of his plans. Cullen stands before the gap, looking down to the yard as a group of Templars - a search party - gathers. It is in vain, he knows; the phylactery will be gone. Enchanter Vael may be a lot of things, but a wallflower he was never meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make me smile every time! I welcome concrit on my work. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


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